


Electric Indigo Eyes

by Murder_Kitten



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Curse Breaking, Dragon Keepers | Dragonologists (Harry Potter), Dragons, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Romanian Dragon Sanctuary (Harry Potter), Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28334787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murder_Kitten/pseuds/Murder_Kitten
Summary: When the Ministry of Magic introduces a marriage law to ensure the continued survival of the magical community, Millicent Bulstrode is not impressed or willing to go along with it. But she will soon find out that defiance has a cost, and the price magic demands may just lead to a life and a love that she hadn't been counting on.OneShot. Complete.
Relationships: Millicent Bulstrode/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Electric Indigo Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RubyLipsStarryEyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyLipsStarryEyes/gifts).



> Disclaimer: the characters do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.R and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended. I make no profit from these works. All stories are for fun and entertainment only.
> 
> I always welcome reviews/comments of people who enjoy my works.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read. I hope you enjoy it. Many thanks to Gcgraywriter for the loan of her amazing OC MacFusty. 💖
> 
> A special note and a very merry Christmas to the lovely and talented RubyLipsStarryEyes. I hope you have a wonderful holiday season and that this little story does justice to the ship you've converted me to 💝
> 
> Love,
> 
> Secret Santa (Murder_Kitten)

_"On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me - a Romanian Longhorn just for me,"_ Millie sang as she secured another red ribbon on the Christmas tree. Professor Flitwick had said that she had an uncommonly good singing voice, but more often than not, Millie sang when she was happy. Music wouldn't come easily to her when she was sad. 

She knew she could leave the decorating to the family house elf, but she was in a good mood, it was Christmas in a month's time, and decorating was a good distraction. She had been waiting for a letter of offer from St Mungo's for a month now and the long wait was starting to make her uneasy. She so desperately wanted to be admitted into the study program for aspiring Healers. 

The end of the war had been hard on everyone. People had lost friends, family, loved ones. They had gained depression, PTSD and more scars than a fighting pit dragon. The two wizarding wars had taken their toll. The magical community had been obliterated. Entire families had been wiped out, their bloodlines and histories lost forever. Still others had gone into hiding permanently or lived disguised as Muggles. It was safer than risking being the victim of a Muggleborn hate crime. 

On the other hand, anti-Slytherin prejudice was at its height. The only more despised group in the magical community were the Death Eaters, closely followed by werewolves. But werewolves were rapidly gaining traction through the Werewolf Rights Movement spearheaded by Hermione Granger and Andromeda Tonks. Soon lycanthropes would be granted the freedoms and rights they had been denied for centuries. They would be permitted to seek medical care, have equal consideration for employment opportunities, and be allowed to obtain the Wolfsbane Potion for free. It was all coming together for them thanks to advocates like Hermione Granger. 

But nobody advocated for Slytherins. People hated them, blamed them, and ostracised them from wizarding society. There had been a queue of suitors petitioning Millie's father for her hand when she had only been fifteen. Her family came from old money, House Bulstrode was one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families, and her father had the Minister's ear. By mere virtue of her father's name, Millie was desirable as a future bride. How times had changed! Now, not only were there no suitors, there was no money, her parents had been disgraced publicly and outed as financial supporters of Lord Voldemort, and Millie herself was struggling to find work.

Most Ministry application forms asked for a letter of recommendation from the applicant's head of house. Severus Snape was dead, and Horace Slughorn only gave leg-up's to the exclusive members of his little Slug Club. The only thing he would do was confirm that she had attended Hogwarts and been in Slytherin. The old Professor didn't know her well and wouldn't provide any useful connections, though he could possibly be convinced to provide her with her academic transcript. 

Everything was about connections with the Ministry these days. If you knew a member of the Order of the Phoenix or Dumbledore's Army or were a close friend of Harry Potter, you were a shoe-in. Millie knew Harry Potter, alright. She had tormented Hermione Granger a number of times during her school years - that wouldn't put her in good standing with Gryffindor's Golden Boy or any other Department Head. So that left St Mungo's. At least the hospital was more focused on academic transcripts than House prejudice. With St Mungo's, she had a chance. That was all she wanted. A chance to start over and make something of herself. 

" _Last Christmas, I gave you my heart,"_ Millie sang, adding the finishing touches to the tree. She knew what her Christmas wish was. The only question was, would St Mungo's grant it? 

* * *

_No, they wouldn't,_ Millie realised with a dejected sigh, discarding the first of two envelopes that had been delivered by owl. It was the same as a dozen other letters she had received, only stamped with the wand and bone logo of St Mungo's, rather than the imposing 'M' of the Ministry of Magic. 

They were all the same to her. Polite rejection. 

_Dear Ms Bulstrode,_

_We regret to inform you that we have been unable to offer you a position at this time… blah, blah, blah._

She scrunched up the letter into a ball and fought against the tears that threatened to fall. _No, crying is for babies, Millie,_ she told herself. _You are not a baby. You're just a stupid Slytherin that nobody wants._ If she had known it would turn out this way, she would go back to her first year at Hogwarts and she wouldn't argue with the Sorting Hat this time. She would let it put her in Ravenclaw and thank her lucky stars. 

She tore open the second envelope, expecting another rejection. This one was stamped with the Ministry's 'M,' so why should she expect anything else? The minute she opened the envelope, something washed over her, making her skin prickle. _Magic_ , she realised with a sigh. Had someone at the Ministry cursed the envelope? That really would be a fitting end to the week. She unfolded the letter and frowned at the first piece of parchment, skimming the text it contained. It was not a rejection letter. 

_Dear Ms Bulstrode,_

_Pursuant to the newly implemented Marriage Act, passed by the Wizengamot and approved by the Minister for Magic himself, you are hereby notified of the new legal requirement for all witches and wizards of marriageable age to enter into suitable unions sixty days from the receipt of this letter._

_As you are no doubt aware, the wizarding community has seen a sharp increase in mortality rates due to the wizarding wars of the last few decades. There has been a corresponding decline in birth rates among the magical community. It is therefore desirable for all unions to produce magical offspring within a reasonable timeframe, to ensure the continued survival of Wizarding Britain._

_Our experts in the Department of Mysteries have used a careful combination of Divination and Arithmancy to determine your future spouse. Please arrange to meet with your husband-to-be to discuss your impending marriage no later than December 31. The Ministry has made every effort to match you to someone who is compatible with you. Please see page 2 for details of your future spouse's name and contact information._

_I am obligated to inform you as a Ministry representative, that you are bound to comply with this letter by virtue of your status as a magical citizen of Wizarding Britain. Failure to do so will result in legal and magical consequences, the severity of which is to be determined by the gravity of any potential breach of these instructions._

_Kind regards,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Wizengamot Administration Services_

Millie set the letter down with a look of revulsion. _Great, just great._ If things weren't bad enough, now the Ministry wanted to marry her off to some random wizard and start popping out a few babies. She shuddered at the thought. Reluctantly, she turned her attention to the second piece of parchment, to read the name of her supposed future husband. 

She froze in shock at the name. 

_Charlie Weasley._

* * *

_No_ , Millie thought resolutely. _No, no, NO. Just_ _no._ She shook her head, trying not to let the feelings of panic that were rising up swallow her completely. 

She could not marry a Gryffindor and be subjected to anti-Slytherin sentiments for the duration of a lifetime. Millie knew she couldn't marry him, if only because once she did, there would be no way out. She could never divorce. No witch in the proud history of House Bulstrode ever had. To divorce was to admit that you had not been able to please your husband. And Millie knew how to please a wizard, she had practiced on Blaise Zabini a number of times in her sixth year. 

Did she want to please Charlie Weasley though? No, she did not. She didn't want to be _Mrs Weasley_ and live in a hovel with a litter of screaming children. She wasn't having it, she thought resolutely. She picked up the letter again, searching for a way out, some kind of loophole that would allow her to escape this life the Ministry was trying to force her into. 

... _by virtue of your status as a magical citizen of Wizarding Britain…_

This was it. If she was no longer a citizen of Wizarding Britain… The thought gave her pause. Leaving everything? Her parents? Her friends? She hesitated, but the name repeated itself in her mind, taunting her - _Weasley._ No, she would not be a Weasley. She would leave and be a citizen of another country. She wondered if France was nice this time of year. Christmas in Paris… That certainly held appeal. Not marrying Charlie Weasley… Well, that held even more appeal. 

She hurriedly packed a bag, crossing off a checklist in her mind. She would need to stop by the Ministry first. The Department of Magical Transportation should be able to provide her with an International Portkey. The Ministry though… What if they had questions? She shrugged the thought off. She would just tell them she was looking into possible Honeymoon locations. Her parents would also have questions… She wouldn't tell them, she decided. The less they knew, the better. The letter had threatened _consequences_ , after all. 

She entered the Floo before she had a chance to change her mind or second guess herself, sliding out of the fireplace in the Ministry Atrium with remarkable grace. She hurried to the lift and waited impatiently to reach the floor she wanted. 

_"Level Six - Department of Magical Transportation, comprising the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office, and Apparition Test Centre. The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day…"_ the disembodied lift voice called out. 

Millie exited the lift and squared her shoulders, a grim determination settling over her. Nothing was going to stop her from getting what she wanted - a portkey out of here. 

Forty-three minutes later, she exited the Ministry with a tea-stained coaster in her hand - the international portkey she had requested. She stuffed the completed registration form into her purse and gripped the portkey tightly. 

All she had to do was tap it with her wand and speak the name of her destination. The choice was hers. Her life was firmly back in her own hands. 

" _Paris,"_ she murmured, a brilliant light engulfing her. But it wasn't the blue glow of an activated Portkey. This light was deep purple and her own magic seemed to crackle around her as the magical consequences threatened by the Wizengamot letter began to take effect. 

* * *

It was fortunate he was visiting his parents for Christmas or he would never have gotten the call. As it was MacFusty sounded livid as he shouted through the Floo at Charlie. 

"YES, A DRAGON, WEASLEY. IN THE MIDDLE OF BLOODY LONDON!" MacFusty yelled. 

"Any clue as to species?" Charlie asked calmly, donning his fireproof overcoat. It was standard issue for Dragonologists, but he hoped not to need it. Common fire-proofing spells would not hold up long under the concentrated fury of dragon-fire.

"NO IDEA," MacFusty shouted. "BLOODY MINISTRY IDIOTS HAD THE GALL TO TELL ME IT WAS A BLACK DRAGON. CARE OF MAGICAL CREATURES OUGHT TO BE COMPULSORY AT THAT BLOODY SCHOOL. USELESS, THE WHOLE LOT OF THEM." 

"Right, tell them I'm on my way," Charlie said, shaking his head. 

"VERY GOOD, WEASLEY," MacFusty called. "OBLIVIATORS WILL MEET YOU THERE TO HANDLE THE MUGGLE WITNESSES AND THERE'S A TEAM OF HIT WIZARDS ON STANDBY IF THINGS GET OUT OF CONTROL." 

Charlie nodded and ended the fire-call, his ears ringing. He suspected MacFusty was going deaf. The old Dragonologist hadn't any idea how loud he was. He scribbled a quick note for his mother, assuring her that he'd be back in time to help clear out some of _Arthur's old Muggle rubbish_ to make the Burrow more presentable for Christmas. He just hoped the _Ministry idiots_ weren't antagonizing the poor dragon… 

* * *

_Ministry idiots_ summed up the situation perfectly, in Charlie's opinion. Terrified Muggles were running every which way, while Obliviators fired memory charms after them. A number of nearby buildings and Muggle vehicles had caught fire. Sirens were blaring in the distance - the Muggle Fire Service were on their way. _More witnesses,_ just what they needed. Meanwhile a line of Hit Wizards were firing off spells at a terrified dragon - a Hebridean Black judging from the black ridges set amongst gleaming dark scales. The dragon's tail was tipped with an arrow shaped spike, and its' eyes were a brilliant purple. So purple in fact that Charlie would describe them as electric indigo. But now was hardly the time. 

The dragon needed to be sedated and moved before it injured itself or someone else. And then the cleanup could begin. The Ministry would have a job explaining this one, Charlie thought, dousing a nearby vehicle with an _aguamenti_ charm as he darted past, trying to get within range of the dragon. 

Scarcely had he aimed his wand when one of the Hit Wizards struck the Hebridean Black with a conjunctivitis curse, temporarily blinding the poor creature, which stumbled around in an even greater panic, a stream of fire issuing from her mouth. It was a female Charlie realised as he dove aside, recognising the graceful curve of the neck and the smaller wings. 

"Stunning spells on my count," Charlie called to the Hit Wizards, who had noted his presence. "Now! _Stupefy!"_

They mirrored him, sending half a dozen stunning spells at the dragon, which slowly keeled over, flattening three taxi cabs. Her eyelids were the last to fall. Electric indigo meeting Charlie's mahogany brown before falling shut. 

Charlie studied the dragon as other wizards worked around him, cleaning up the chaos. The Hebridean Black would be moved to the sanctuary in Romania as soon as McFusty gave the order. There was a sanctuary particularly for this species on the Hebrides Islands of Scotland, but the Romanian Sanctuary had been first to respond and the dragon was therefore under their Dragonologists care for the foreseeable future. 

Someone had dropped their purse nearby and Charlie leaned down to pick it up. He'd return it to the Lost and Found at the Ministry, the entrance wasn't far away. He opened the purse to look for an Apparition Licence or some other form of I.D. An International Portkey Registration Form caught his eye. Now he knew who to return it to - _Millicent Bulstrode._

* * *

Christmas had come and gone, and still Charlie hadn't heard from his Ministry assigned match - Millicent Bulstrode. He'd returned her purse to the Lost and found, but so far it had not been claimed. He recognised the name. Her family was renowned for being Slytherin purebloods. No doubt she had disappeared for good rather than be tied to a blood traitor family through the bonds of marriage. He had seen the registration form she had filled out for an international portkey. She was likely hidden in Paris by now. He didn't blame her for leaving. His job was high risk, far away, and paid a pittance. There weren't exactly witches lining up to date him. Or to marry him. 

Resigned to the fact that Millicent obviously had no interest in connecting with him on any level whatsoever, he returned to Romania in the New Year to return to his job at the Dragon Reserve. Millicent faded from his mind as he checked on the new hatchlings and undertook his newest assignment - getting the new Hebridean Black female used to the keepers and acclimatizing her to life in the Reserve. She would eventually be released into an enclosure with other dragons of her species, sex and age. 

But the first step was getting her to trust him so that she could be safely handled, fed, and her enclosure cleaned when it needed doing. He felt that it was an important part of his job - bonding with the dragons and developing trust between them.

He made his way to her enclosure, a notebook and wand in hand. First, he wanted to observe her. They still had no idea why she had been terrorising a street in London in the first place. 

He climbed up onto the viewing platform, from which he could see her entire enclosure, from end to end. She seemed timid to his eye. A Dragonologist was in the enclosure with her, trying to tempt her with some venison. It was a well known fact that Hebridean Blacks favoured deer as a primary source of meat. But the dragon turned up her nose at it and retreated back from the Dragonologist. 

"Eat it, you stubborn beast," the wizard said in frustration, flinging the deer carcass towards the dragon. She shied away from it and gave the wizard a look of disgust, her electric indigo eyes glittering in the half-light. 

Charlie smiled to himself - they had a princess on their hands. 

"No luck, Davies?" Charlie asked with a grin, as the other Dragonologist exited the enclosure. 

"None," Davies admitted with a sigh. "She's hardly touched any of the food we've tried to give her. It's been weeks." 

"She's eaten nothing at all?" Charlie said worriedly. Even from this distance, he could see that her glossy scales had lost their shine, turning dull. Her muscle mass had also been depleted. If she didn't eat, she would get too weak and sickly to survive. 

"Little bits here and there," Davies shrugged. "She had a go at some berries in her enclosure. But she won't touch the meat." 

"Alright," Charlie said, noting it down. "Any signs of aggression?" 

"Not if you keep at least six feet away from her," Davies shrugged. "Corner her and it's a different story." 

"Noted," Charlie said. 

"Where are you going?" Davies asked as Charlie got up. 

"To say hello," Charlie laughed, pocketing his notebook. 

He entered the enclosure and locked the door behind him with a tap of his wand. Six feet, Davies said. He didn't make it quite that close to her. He saw a pair of gleaming, electric indigo eyes narrow dangerously, then she was on him. Charlie only just made it out of the enclosure in time as the dragon snarled and roared behind him, a jet of flame soaring over his head. 

He looked back at her, perplexed. Never, in his entire career, had a dragon reacted so aggressively to him on a first meeting...Unless she remembered him from London. He met her eyes, trying to understand the behaviour. She was panting heavily, her ears flattened back to her head like an angry cat. 

"That was interesting," Davies commented with a smirk. 

"No, that was personal," Charlie said, his heart rate finally slowing back to normal. 

Those electric indigo eyes remained fixed on him as he considered the sleek black form of the Hebridean Black. _What had he done to piss off this dragon?_

* * *

Charlie returned the following morning, cautiously approaching the enclosure. He had brought some treats to bribe her with this time, determined to win her over. 

"Good morning," he said softly. A low, rumbling growl was the only response he got from the dragon, who watched him from nearby. "My name is Charlie. Charlie Weasley," he said in a calm, soothing tone. "I think we got off on the wrong foot," he continued. "I'm here to help you. I want to be your friend." 

The dragon regarded him with cool indifference, mistrust evident in her eyes. But she didn't attack. Charlie took that as a good sign, and moved a little nearer to the enclosure door. 

"Davies says you haven't been eating. Not a fan of deer?" Charlie asked, not taking his eyes off her. "You have to eat if you want to stay strong and healthy." The dragon tossed her head, as though she didn't give a huff what Davies or Charlie thought. "Sure are a beautiful girl," Charlie continued in the same measured tone. "I've never seen such lovely eyes. Not purple like most Hebridean Blacks, more intense. Electric Indigo." 

He slowly eased the door open and stepped inside. The dragon made no move, but her eyes were watchful and alert, her whole body taut and stiff as she waited to see what he would do. 

"Everyone needs a name," Charlie said quietly. "Electric Indigo, maybe? Indie? I think Indie sounds nice," he said cautiously. The dragon cocked her head as though listening to the name. "Indie," Charlie said softly, carefully sinking to the ground and sitting cross-legged, his wand in easy reach. 'Indie' watched him carefully for a moment, then curled up a good six feet away from him. 

The lack of aggression was a good sign though, and Charlie didn't plan on leaving anytime soon. He sat and watched her for hours, studying every scale and the shape and angle of her head, the position of the ridges on her back, and the arrow shaped tip on her tail. 

Eventually though, he started to get hungry. He slipped a package of beef jerky from his pocket, jumping as Indie snatched the entire package and upended it on the ground, eating every last piece. 

"Well, I guess we've found something you'll eat," Charlie said with a smile. 

Indie flicked her tail at him, gently cuffing the back of his head, almost seeming to scold him for being cheeky with her. She had such character, Charlie thought. 

He returned every day after that to sit with her and talk, finding that she filled what were ordinarily some lonely hours for him. He told her about his family, his work, and other dragons in his care. Once, he sat with her head cradled in his lap and told her about Fred, his younger brother who had died in the battle of Hogwarts. It was the first time he'd ever talked with anyone about Fred. Living so far away, he didn't feel particularly close to anyone in his family, and he told Indie so. She seemed to soften over time, able to sense Charlie's mood, and sometimes seeming to understand the stories he told her about his life. She began to trust him more, and even allowed Charlie to hand feed her. He had discovered that she would eat venison or any meat, if it was cooked first. Unusual, but not unheard of for a dragon. 

* * *

Months passed, and Charlie began to dread the day Indie would have to be released from her little enclosure and integrated into the larger Reserve, where she would be with her own kind. But a night came that was to change everything. 

The Reserve was under attack. A band of dragon smugglers had broken into the Reserve and were trying to take the dragons. The dragonhides would fetch hundreds of Galleons on the black market. Live dragons for the fighting pits would fetch thousands more. The night sky was filled with the roars and screeches of terrified dragons, the shouts of Dragonologists and smugglers engaged in duels, the former trying to save the dragons they so loved, and the latter driven by greed and desperation. Times were hard and the Reserve was an easy target. 

Charlie fought like a wizard possessed, casting every spell he knew to save his beloved dragons, many of which were rare or endangered species. A smuggler engaged him in a duel, spells flying thick and fast as Charlie ducked and weaved around the blasts of light. 

_"Avada Kedavra!"_ the smuggler screeched, a blast of green light flying through the air. 

There was a furious roar as Indie swooped protectively in front of Charlie and took the killing curse for him, the dragon blasted off her feet. 

Charlie sent a barrage of stunning spells at his opponent, hot tears blinding him as the smuggler fell to the ground unconscious. 

He rushed to Indie, cradling her dark head in his lap. The dragon let out a whimper that went straight to Charlie's heart like a dagger. 

"Why did you do that? Why did you do that?" he murmured, stroking her head, his eyes finding hers - electric indigo. 

Indie gave a shuddering breath, the light leaving her brilliant eyes. Charlie cradled her lifeless body in the snow, blinded by tears. He'd never bonded with any dragon, with _anyone,_ the way he had with Indie, and now she was gone forever. 

A purple light suddenly flashed around them, and Charlie watched, wide-eyed, as the dragon's still form morphed into that of a beautiful young woman with long wavy dark hair and brilliant electric indigo eyes. Relief flooded through him and without thinking, Charlie kissed her. 

"I thought I lost you forever," he murmured as some sort of apology when they broke apart. 

"You don't even know my name," she said quietly, a bright flush suffusing her cheeks. 

"I don't need to. You saved me," Charlie said, swiping at his tear-stained cheeks. 

She smiled. "It's Millie. Millie Bulstrode. And don't mention it." 

"Millie," Charlie said softly. "Wait, _Millie --_ Millicent Bulstrode?" he said in surprise. 

"Yeah, why?" she asked. 

"You-- you're the one. The Ministry marriage match!" he exclaimed. "What happened to you? I thought you'd left for Paris and all this time, you were--" 

Millie sighed. "I tried. I tried to leave. I'm sorry, I know that's really awful. I can't imagine what you must think of me." 

"But you didn't leave," Charlie said with a frown. "You've been here all this time." 

"Not by choice," Millie muttered. "If they hadn't cursed the bloody parchment…" 

"But you have a choice now," Charlie said quietly. "I assume whatever curse they used broke when you-- when you got hit," he said, a little quiver in his voice. 

"Charlie," Millie said hesitantly. "I-- I haven't been human in months. I just, I need--"

"Time," Charlie nodded in understanding. 

"No," Millie said, shaking her head. "I need real food and a damn cup of coffee." 

"I think I can arrange that," Charlie said with a chuckle, helping Millie to her feet and escorting her back to his place for food and coffee. 

* * *

Months had passed since Millie and Charlie's first conversation over steak, mashed potatoes and coffee. It was Christmas again, and Charlie had conjured floating fairy lights all through the Reserve. 

He and Millie walked arm in arm, the lights making their shadows flicker across the snowy ground. 

Millie nestled her head into Charlie's chest, smiling when he planted a kiss on the top of her head. 

"I love you," he murmured softly. 

"What?" Millie said, startled. "You don't know me well enough for that." 

"Yes, I do. And you know me, better than anyone ever has. I know you would take a killing curse for me, and I'd do the same for you. I'd trip over my feet first, but I'd do it," Charlie promised, as Millie laughed and squeezed his hand. 

"Well, that I believe," Millie smirked, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she grinned up at him. 

"I always did love your eyes," Charlie said with a soft smile, smoothing back a tendril of Millie's dark hair and admiring her electric indigo eyes, the only feature she had retained from her time as a dragon. 

"I know, I like them too," Millie admitted, melting into his arms as Charlie pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. She angled her head and deepened the kiss, wishing this moment never had to end, as they broke apart after several blissful kisses. 

_"On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me - a sexy Dragonologist just for me,"_ Millie sang smugly, linking arms with Charlie. The floating fairy lights lit their path as they continued walking arm in arm. A rare moment of sentimentality overtook Millie, a sentiment she could attribute to Christmas magic, but the lights weren't the only thing that looked bright tonight. Studying the fire-kissed hair and mahogany eyes of the man who walked beside her, she smiled. Her future with Charlie was looking pretty bright too.


End file.
